


The Ghost of You and Me

by hchollym



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Bilbo thinks he's going crazy but he's not, Canonical Character Death, Family Feels, Fluff, Frerin is adorable, Ghosts, Halls of Mandos, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hchollym/pseuds/hchollym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bilbo decided to stay in Erebor after it was reclaimed, he never imagined that he would start seeing the ghosts of Thorin’s ancestors or that the king’s dead brother would fall in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strange Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been on my mind for a long time now, so I finally decided to post it. 
> 
> The chapters are going to be shorter than my other WIP's, but updates will be more frequent. 
> 
> On a random note, accent marks drive me crazy to type, so just pretend that all the names have them.
> 
> Comments are always lovely <3

The Lonely Mountain stood tall and proud in the sky, finally freed from the reign of Smaug the Terrible and reclaimed in the name of the dwarves. The dragon had left Erebor in ruins, and repairs to the mountain would be extensive, but the reconstruction was already well underway. The dwarves of the Iron Hills were helping to rebuild the kingdom and restore it to its former glory while they waited for their kin from the Blue Mountains to arrive.

A section of the mountain had already been secured and stabilized enough for the inhabitants of Erebor to live in, and it was there that Bilbo Baggins currently resided. He and Thorin had made their peace after the Battle of the Five Armies, and when the king asked him to stay in Erebor, Bilbo had readily agreed. He loved the Shire, and he would certainly miss Bag End and his relatives (aside from the Sackville-Baggins), but the company was his family now too, and he knew in his heart that he belonged with them.

The hobbit was currently wandering through the long corridors of the mountain in an attempt to find the great hall. Lunch would be served soon, and his stomach growled in hunger, but no relief seemed forthcoming. He was lost again. He had yet to get used to the dimly lit and complex hallways of Erebor, so he found himself disoriented more often than not, and the company had taken to escorting him most places, much to his chagrin. 

Bofur had offered to walk with him earlier, but Bilbo had been finishing up a passage in his book and hadn’t wanted to keep the dwarf waiting, so he told him to go ahead. The dwarves had escorted him down the path that led from his room to the great hall plenty of times already, so he was fairly confident that he could handle it by himself this time. 

He was wrong. Everything looked the same to him, and he had no idea which way to turn or even what direction to walk in. He cursed under his breath, but stopped when he saw a blonde dwarf staring at him from the end of the corridor. 

His hair was wavy and only long enough to reach slightly below his shoulders, and his beard and mustache were nothing more than thick stubble, which made him look around the same age as Fili. His piercing blue eyes were locked on Bilbo, his gaze unwavering as he watched the hobbit. He seemed familiar, but Bilbo couldn’t quite figure out why. 

He was positive that he had never seen the dwarf before, as he surely would have remembered him because the only other blonde dwarf in the mountain was Fili. It was a rare hair color for dwarves. He hadn’t heard about any more dwarves from the Iron Hills arriving, but they must have; it was too soon for anyone from the Blue Mountains to have reached Erebor yet. 

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief, because the dwarf had to be better at finding his way inside a mountain than Bilbo was, and the blonde could probably direct him to the great hall. 

“Ah, excuse me, but I’m afraid that I’ve gotten myself a little lost. Could you possibly direct me to the great hall?” He called out. The dwarf blinked and turned around to look behind him before his gaze returned to the hobbit. He frowned slightly but remained silent, and Bilbo grew irritated by his lack of response. 

He wondered if the dwarf was ignoring him because he was a hobbit, and that thought only served to fuel his anger. He was sorely tempted to scold the blonde for his ignorance and bad manners, but he held his tongue and opted for being polite instead. His mother always said that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. 

“I am sorry to bother you, Master Dwarf, but I’m not used to these hallways yet, and I would really appreciate your help,” he tried again. The dwarf furrowed his brows in confusion, his eyes searching the corridor as if looking for someone else that Bilbo could be talking to, and the hobbit pursed his lips and huffed. 

“Hello. I am talking to you!” He shouted, no longer able to push his frustration aside, and he stomped over to the dwarf, stopping directly in front of him. The blonde was taller than Bilbo and most definitely stronger, if his muscular arms were anything to go by, but the hobbit was not backing down. He put his hands on his hips and glared defiantly into the dwarf’s bewildered eyes. 

“It’s incredibly rude to ignore someone when they are talking to you,” he declared, an accusing tone to his voice. The dwarf’s eyes went wide as his mouth fell open in shock. He spluttered for a few moments, seemingly unable to comprehend this turn of events, before he managed to collect himself. 

“You, you can see me?” He asked in disbelief. Bilbo rolled his eyes and huffed. 

“Yes, of course I can see you. I’m a hobbit, not blind,” he retorted coolly. The dwarf’s mouth snapped shut, and he seemed to be wracking his brain for a response. 

“But no one can see me,” he finally said, his voice filled with wonder. Bilbo blinked, studying the dwarf’s face with a frown as his anger gave way to confusion. 

“What do you mean? Why can’t anyone see you?” he asked. He had no idea what was going on, but this dwarf was definitely strange and his statement made very little sense. The blonde cocked his head to the side and looked at Bilbo curiously. 

“Because I’m dead.”


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finds out more about the mysterious dwarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you guys so much for all the kudos and comments on the first chapter! I really appreciate it :)
> 
> I adore this couple, even though it’s super rare and probably seems really strange, so I’m glad that other people are interested in it too!
> 
> There will be Bilbo/Thorin later on, but we’re not there yet! 
> 
> Comments are always lovely <3

“Why can’t anyone see you?” Bilbo asked. He had no idea what was going on, but this dwarf was definitely strange and his statement made very little sense. The blonde cocked his head to the side and looked at Bilbo curiously.

“Because I’m dead,” he replied, his tone as nonchalant as it would be if he was talking about the weather. Bilbo blinked, waiting for the rest of the joke, but it never came. 

“Right, well okay then,” Bilbo said awkwardly, clearing his throat as he moved to step around the blonde and walk away. The poor dwarf had obviously lost his mind, and while Bilbo felt bad for him, he was slightly afraid to be alone with him in an otherwise abandoned hallway. 

The blonde suddenly stepped in front of him as he was trying to pass, and Bilbo ran smack into his broad chest. He stumbled back from the impact, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms and scowled. 

“What was that for?!” He demanded. The dwarf’s eyes were wide again, and he looked as shocked as if Bilbo had just told him that the Arkenstone was really a dragon’s egg.

“You didn’t walk right through me; you can feel me,” he breathed out in astonishment, and Bilbo found his patience growing very thin. 

“Of course I didn’t walk right through you!” He practically yelled in frustration. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. 

“Look, there’s a healer in the great hall; I think it’s probably best if you go see him,” he said as evenly as he could manage.

Before the blonde could answer, Bofur rounded the corner in search of the hobbit. Bilbo sighed in relief upon seeing his friend; Bofur would be able to help him find his way to the great hall and get him away from this obviously delusional dwarf. 

“Who are you talking to?” The toymaker asked curiously, and Bilbo scowled in aggravation at the silly question. There was only one other occupant in the corridor, so who else would he be talking to?

“This dwarf, obviously.” He gestured to the blonde in front of him, and Bofur blinked, his expression growing worried. 

“Ah, Bilbo, perhaps we better let Oin take a look at you. I think you might be coming down with a fever,” he said cautiously, and Bilbo had to stop himself from screaming in exasperation. 

“I am not the one who is sick here; he is!” He pointed to the dwarf again, and Bofur approached him with a concerned look on his face. 

To Bilbo’s horror, as Bofur stepped closer, the toymaker walked straight through the other dwarf! Bilbo gaped and spluttered in shock. He opened and closed his mouth uselessly as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. 

“How, how did you do that?!” He cried out in dismay, and Bofur placed his hand gently on the hobbit’s elbow. 

“Do what, Bilbo?” He asked kindly. His gaze was imploring as he searched the hobbit’s eyes for some sort of answer, and Bilbo had never been more confused in his life. He looked at the blonde dwarf again in a desperate plea for an explanation. 

“I told you; no one else can see me or feel me, because I’m dead,” the other said softly. Bilbo looked at Bofur for confirmation that he had heard the statement too, but the toymaker was still staring at Bilbo as if no one else had spoken. 

“Oh my, perhaps I am coming down with a fever. I think I should lie down,” Bilbo said in distress. He felt perfectly fine, but hallucinating was definitely not a good sign. 

Bofur nodded in agreement and replied, “Aye, let me walk you back to your room, and then I’ll send Oin in.” Bilbo shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. 

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’m fine; I think I just need a little rest,” he said honestly. He hadn’t been sleeping very well since the Battle of the Five Armies, because he was plagued with nightmares of his friends’ deaths that kept him tossing and turning until dawn. He probably just needed to catch up on some sleep, and then he would be fine. Bofur looked doubtful, but he nodded anyway. 

To Bilbo’s annoyance and displeasure, the other dwarf followed the two of them to Bilbo’s room. The hobbit bade Bofur farewell and shut the door, turning to find the blonde sitting on his bed and watching him inquisitively. Bilbo jumped at the sight, placing his hand over his racing heart, and scowled at the intruder. 

“You are not real,” he declared, feeling silly for talking to himself, but he hoped that saying it aloud would make the dwarf disappear. No such luck; the blonde was still looking at Bilbo in curiosity and fascination. 

“Yes, I am,” the dwarf responded resolutely. Bilbo sighed and rubbed his forehead; he was beginning to get a headache. Perhaps he was ill, after all. 

“You expect me to believe that you’re, what, a ghost?” He asked incredulously. The dwarf merely shrugged, as if that idea wasn’t absolutely mad. 

“I am a ghost. My name is Frerin,” he replied calmly. Bilbo sighed and sat down on the bed near the supposed ghost. 

“If you are dead, then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the Hall of your Forefathers?” Bilbo asked. He didn’t actually believe that this dwarf was truly a ghost, but if he was going to hallucinate anyway, then he might as well play along.

“All dwarves can go back and forth between this world and the Halls of our Forefathers. We come back here to watch over our surviving family members, but no one has ever been able to see, hear or feel us before,” Frerin said, looking at Bilbo as if he was trying to figure out a complex puzzle, and the hobbit sighed. This was all a bit much. 

“Well, I’m obviously not your family, seeing as I’m not even a dwarf, so what are you doing near me?” He asked in exasperation. 

The entire situation made no sense -not that he expected it to- but it still would have been nice if his hallucination was a bit more reasonable and logical. He almost snorted out loud at that ridiculous thought; maybe he really was going mad.

Frerin looked taken aback by the question, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to find words. His cheeks turned pink, and he averted his gaze from the hobbit, suddenly becoming very interested in the dirt on the floor. 

“Er, well, I was following my family, but I’ve never met a hobbit before, so I was curious about you,” he confessed, though he still wouldn’t meet Bilbo’s eyes.

Bilbo pondered the statement for a moment. If his hallucination thought that he was intriguing enough to follow, then maybe Bilbo was subconsciously craving attention or acceptance. He was the only hobbit in a mountain full of dwarves, so it made sense that he would want to fit in. 

Another thought suddenly struck him. If Frerin was following his family when he saw Bilbo, then the hobbit must know the dwarf’s relatives. 

“Who is your family?” He asked curiously. Frerin finally met his gaze again and smiled. 

“Thorin is my brother, and Fili and Kili are my nephews, though I died before I ever had the chance to meet them,” he answered. 

Bilbo’s mouth hung open in shock. Thorin’s brother? So that was why the blonde looked so familiar to him. As Bilbo took in the features of the dwarf in front of him again, he realized that Frerin did look a lot like Thorin, but with some of the same features that Fili had as well. 

Bilbo didn’t know that Thorin had a brother, so he wasn’t sure what to think about the revelation. He was hallucinating about a dwarf that may or may not be the king’s dead brother, and that had to mean something in his subconscious, but he couldn’t begin to fathom what it was. 

“I didn’t know that Thorin had a brother,” he said skeptically. Frerin smiled again, and what a gorgeous smile it was. Bilbo thought it was entirely unfair that his hallucination was so good-looking. 

“Just ask him then,” Frerin answered easily.

Bilbo frowned as he contemplated that idea. He decided that he would ask Thorin, if only to prove to himself that this was just some strange hallucination caused by fever or lack of sleep. 

“Alright, I will,” he responded evenly. He would prove that this was not real; it couldn’t be. There was no way that he was truly seeing a ghost. 

Yet in his heart, despite not being ready to accept it, Bilbo knew that Frerin was real.


	3. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finally accepts that he isn’t hallucinating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys again for all the comments and kudos on the last chapter! I really do appreciate it! Sorry for the wait, but my life got thrown upside down – again. It seems to be a common occurrence. 
> 
> Someone commented about Frerin’s age, so I thought it would be a good idea to address that now. When Frerin died, he was 48. There are a lot of different ideas about dwarf ages, but in my head-canon (and for the sake of this story), dwarves come of age at 50. For starters, since Frerin died in battle, I have a hard time imagining that the dwarves would send one of their princes to fight in a war if he was still a young child. Regardless, Frerin has been dead for almost 200 years, and even though his body hasn’t changed much, and he still has a lot of the same personality traits from when he was alive, he’s also matured mentally. So technically, Frerin is not of age, but I don’t really see it that way. Does that make sense?
> 
> Anyway, onto the next chapter! Comments are always lovely <3

Bilbo’s stomach growled from hunger, and he instantly regretted not going to lunch with Bofur when he had the chance. He could deal with his hallucinations later, but right now, he needed to eat something before he starved to death. The irony of that thought was not lost on Bilbo, but he managed to hold back his laughter, only letting a small smile appear on his lips. 

He stood up and walked to the door, desperately hoping that there was still some lunch left, even though the chances of that happening were unlikely. Knowing the dwarves, all the food had been devoured within a few minutes, but it was worth a try. He began to make his way towards the great hall, Frerin following behind him quietly, and Bilbo did his best to ignore the dwarf. 

He wondered if he should feel more distressed about a supposed dead dwarf walking behind him like a shadow, but the other’s presence was oddly comforting in the dark, silent hallways of Erebor. It wasn’t long before the corridor split into three different hallways, and Bilbo realized in annoyance that he was lost, yet again. He groaned and then cursed under his breath, and Frerin gave him an amused smile. 

“That way,” he said, pointing to the hallway on the left, and Bilbo regarded him skeptically. Frerin just continued smiling, his eyes dancing with laughter, and Bilbo sighed. He might as well go in that direction; he was already lost anyway, and his hallucination seemed pretty confident about where they were supposed to go. Maybe his subconscious remembered the way to the great hall better than he thought.

Frerin continued to guide him through the various corridors of the mountain until they reached the door of the great hall. Bilbo blinked in surprise. That was strangely easy. He’d never found his way through the mountain that quickly before; it was a little disconcerting. He wanted to believe that he just got lucky that time, but it was a rather odd coincidence. 

He walked inside the door, relief flooding through his body when he realized that there was still some food left on the table. Bombur must have made a huge meal for there to be any leftovers. The room was empty save for Balin and Ori, who were still seated around the large table and finishing their food. They smiled when they saw him, and Balin motioned for Bilbo to sit beside him. 

“Ah, Bilbo, there you are. Bofur said you weren’t feeling too well. Is everything alright?” the older dwarf asked in concern. Bilbo opened his mouth to assure Balin that he was fine, but closed it immediately, his face going pale in horror at the sight before him. 

Frerin was sitting in the middle of the table, his legs crossed as he watched Bilbo with an unwavering smile. Bilbo noticed in disgust that one of Frerin’s boots was right next to the plate of ham, and the other was near the plate of cheese. How unsanitary! Balin and Ori were looking at him with worried expressions, so he gulped and nodded his head.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired, I suppose,” he replied, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He must have succeeded, because Balin and Ori seemed to accept his explanation and nodded in understanding. He silently piled his plate with food, grudgingly avoiding the ham and cheese, which seemed to amuse Frerin tremendously. 

“They’re not going to get dirty from my boots, you know,” he said, his eyes shining with mirth. Bilbo quickly looked at the other two occupants in the room, but neither of them showed any sign of hearing the blonde. Bilbo huffed quietly and started eating his food, wracking his brain for an idea of how to bring up the topic of Thorin’s brother in a way that wouldn’t make him sound crazy. 

“Fili and Kili are Thorin’s sister-sons, aren’t they?” He finally started, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. Balin looked at him curiously before nodding. 

“Aye, they are his sister Dis’s boys.” Bilbo nodded, pretending to contemplate the answer. So Thorin definitely had a sister, but there was no mention of a brother so far. 

“So he has no brothers?” He asked, hoping that his question seemed relevant to the conversation. Balin’s expression grew sad and he shook his head, sighing mournfully. 

“Not anymore, no. His younger brother died during the Battle of Azanulbizar.” Bilbo swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat and pointedly ignored the blonde dwarf sitting on the table before him. 

“That is very tragic. What was his name? Thorin’s brother, I mean,” he asked hesitantly. A part of him didn’t want to hear the answer that would confirm what Frerin had been telling him all along, but he needed to know. Balin gave him a small, sad smile. 

“Frerin.” Bilbo gulped, and his head started spinning. He needed to get out of there. He stood up hurriedly, stumbling away from the table. 

He could barely register Balin’s voice as it called after him in concern, the words sounding distant over the ringing in his ears. He ran as far and as fast as he could down the hallways of the mountain, not caring if he got lost. 

Hobbits were faster than dwarves, but Frerin was doing a decent job of keeping up with him. It seemed that ghosts didn’t get winded. Bilbo finally stopped, sliding down a wall to sit on the floor as he tried to collect his thoughts. 

This was too much. It was almost funny; he had faced a dragon, yet seeing Thorin’s dead brother, who was actually quite friendly, was making him panic.

“So you really are dead?” He asked quietly, even though he already knew the answer. Frerin nodded, sliding down the wall to sit beside him.

“So why can I see you?” Bilbo asked almost pleadingly, his eyes searching the dwarf’s gaze for some sort of explanation. Frerin’s expression was one of understanding and pity as he shook his head apologetically.

“I truly don’t know,” he replied softly. Bilbo closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, tears pricking his eyes. Why was this happening to him? He didn’t want to see ghosts; it was terrifying and overwhelming. 

Frerin sat next to Bilbo silently as he let the hobbit work through his emotions. It was breaking the dwarf’s heart to see him so upset. He put his arm around Bilbo’s shoulders hesitantly, not wanting to upset the hobbit further. Bilbo tensed for a moment before relaxing and allowing himself to be pulled towards the dwarf in a comforting embrace. 

He cried silently against the blonde, wetting his shirt with tears, as Frerin rubbed soothing circles on his back and kissed the top of his head. Despite the circumstances, the gesture was calming, and Bilbo felt his panic begin to subside. A thought suddenly crossed his mind, and he pulled away from the embrace to look at the dwarf.

“Why are you here now? I mean, if you come back to watch over Thorin, Fili and Kili, then why weren’t you there during the quest?” Bilbo asked, and Frerin frowned slightly. 

“Actually, I was there during the quest. I saw everything from the trolls to Mirkwood to the Battle of the Five Armies. I was even there when you confronted Smaug,” he replied. Bilbo’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Truly? Then why didn’t I see you before?” He questioned. It didn’t make any sense. Frerin shrugged, obviously as stumped as Bilbo was, but mostly unconcerned about that mystery. 

“I don’t know, but we were all there; we stayed during the whole quest. It was frustrating not being able to help or protect anyone, but we still felt like we needed to be there. We wanted to see how it would turn out.” Bilbo nodded in response, but his eyes narrowed when he picked up on Frerin’s word choice. 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Bilbo asked suspiciously. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like this. 

“Oh, myself, my father Thrain, my grandfather Thror, and my brother-in-law Vini –he’s Fili and Kili’s father. My mother Lauris and my grandmother Raena were there too sometimes, but they don’t come back here as often as the rest of us,” Frerin replied nonchalantly, completely unaware of the fact that Bilbo was starting to hyperventilate. 

“And where are they now?” The hobbit asked, trying to keep his voice from breaking. He failed miserably, if Frerin’s mischievous grin was anything to go by. 

“If they’re not in the Halls of our Forefathers, then they’re either following Thorin, Fili and Kili here or my sister Dis back in the Blue Mountains. But I’m sure that they’ll be _dying_ to meet you when I tell them that you can see us!” Frerin was grinning at his own joke, and Bilbo would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t shaking his head vehemently in protest.

“Oh no! No, no, no, no!” He waggled his finger at the dwarf, and Frerin’s smile widened in response. 

“There is absolutely no way that I am meeting them! One ghost is enough for me, thank you very much!” It was bad enough that he could see Thorin’s dead brother without adding the rest of his family on top of that. Frerin laughed.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice,” he responded, his amusement obvious in his voice. Bilbo groaned, covering his face with his hands. 

“Great,” he muttered sarcastically, and the dwarf laughed again lightly.

“You’re a very interesting hobbit, Master Baggins. You never cease to amaze me,” Frerin said fondly, and Bilbo shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He wasn’t sure how to feel about getting compliments from a ghost. 

“Um, thank you, but call me Bilbo, please.” They might as well be on a first-name basis, especially since Frerin seemed intent on introducing Bilbo to his family. The blonde smiled happily at his statement. 

“Bilbo it is then,” Frerin responded warmly, and Bilbo had a feeling that his life was about to get a whole lot more interesting.


End file.
